


Iwaizumi Hajime's Love Confession (translation)

by Markiza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adult Language, Happy Ending, M/M, POV Iwaizumi Hajime, Pining Iwaizumi Hajime, Swearing, Translation, original language:russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 08:19:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17825204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markiza/pseuds/Markiza
Summary: Iwaizumi and his problem had been friends for a long time. That mentioned problem had a name―Oikawa Tooru―his best friend, and his first and only love. Almost like in the movies.A translation of Признание Иваизуми Хаджиме by platepants.





	Iwaizumi Hajime's Love Confession (translation)

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Признание Иваизуми Хаджиме](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5681086) by [platepants](https://archiveofourown.org/users/platepants/pseuds/platepants). 



> Links to the original text: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5681086 and https://ficbook.net/readfic/3958119
> 
> Author's notes: Romance without plot. 
> 
> Translator's notes: I translated this some months ago but apparently I forgot to post it? Exams have killed me.  
> A big thank you to the author for letting me translate this and publish it here. I had so much fun with this!  
> The sole aim of this translation is to practice translating from russian to english. Please bear in mind that English is not my first language and the translation is not revised by any beta-reader, so there are probably mistakes. If you encounter some, please let me know.

**Chapter 1**

The plastic bottle of oolong was spinning awkwardly, its neck pointed at Oikawa, who was wearing some dumb pajamas that he put on as soon as the regular members of Seijoh burst into his house. He seemed not to mind flashing his boxers with UFO drawings at everyone’s faces.

Their coach had ordered them to rest, and Oikawa of course had interpreted the recommendation in his own way. During their last practice he assumed his ―supposed to be― best pose and announced that “the great captain Oikawa-san” is inviting them all to his house. And now their bellies were warm with his mother’s curry, and they were surrounded by scattered empty bags of chips, dried shrimps and sweets.

The bottom of the bottle pointed at Kunimi.

“Truth or dare,” he asked.

“I’m willing to answer any question!” Oikawa straightened and winked.

“Hmm,” Kunimi touched his chin in a thinking position. “Why did your girlfriend break up with you?”

One of the unspoken rules of the game was that the questions should be as indelicate as possible, and Kunimi played the truth or dare game the same way he played on the court― he aimed with accuracy and hit straight toward the target.

Iwaizumi himself hasn’t asked Oikawa about it, because it was totally not his business. Nonetheless, he suddenly found himself squeezing his last dried shrimp and stared at the floor, the food forgotten. When Oikawa kept silent for too long, Iwaizumi lifted up his gaze and unexpectedly found his eyes locked up with chocolate ones.

“Because I didn’t sort out my priorities,” Oikawa finally answered, looking straight at Iwaizumi.

Kunimi didn’t care where Oikawa was looking, he was too busy drinking his juice with a straw. Iwaizumi’s tongue felt dry. He wanted to swallow but couldn’t, and his ears felt too hot. He was familiar with a thousand of Oikawa’s glances, however, there were some that he still wasn’t able to fully comprehend.

It made him feel lost. He tried to hide it as much as he could so that Oikawa wasn’t able to read him. Supposing that he didn’t already know, because after all, he was the master in finding out human weaknesses.

Kindaichi also chose truth and Oikawa, swaying from side to side, arranged his arms in an improvisation of a loudspeaker, and in a loud whisper, without any qualms, asked.

“Kindaichi, are you still a virgin?”

Everyone’s faces turned red except Oikawa’s, who still sat with a careless expression. Kindaichi’s eyebrows looked like they would hide among his hair anytime.

Iwaizumi snorted, covering his mouth with a fist, and his action was instantly followed by the laugher of the rest.

“Oh,” Matsukawa raised his finger up, as if he had remembered something. “Have you heard that our history teacher has been harassing a first-year boy?”

It was followed by a collective “ew”.

Meanwhile, Kindaichi span the bottle.

Iwaizumi didn’t notice when exactly the whispers about Kindaichi’s virginity ceased, but Kindaichi, still red as a tomato, almost jumped of joy when the bottom of the bottle pointed at him and the neck at Oikawa. 

“Oikawa-san,” Kindaichi blurted out, face still burning with shame. His hair on a par with his expression. “If you had to have sex with a guy, who would it be?”

To try to embarrass Oikawa with questions about girls was pointless, so Kindaichi decided to blast him with a different attack, and the rumor about the harassing had definitely helped.

“Of course it would be Iwa-chan!” Oikawa answered without a second thought. He smiled showing all his teeth, oblivious to the fact that Iwaizumi’s heart just sank into his stomach.

The window was slightly opened, and the looming silence of the room was filled with the anxious buzzing of the crickets.

“Shittykawa!” Iwaizumi blurted out.

“Ew!”

“My condolences, Iwaizumi-san.”

“Iwaizumi, run―I’ll hold him off...”

“Seems like you’re in trouble...”

Everyone laughed. Everyone except Iwaizumi himself, for he and his problem had been friends for a long time. And that mentioned problem had a name―Oikawa Tooru―his best friend, and his first and only love. Almost like in the movies.

But Iwaizumi has learnt to cope with his feelings, even though there were times when he made himself think that his attachment to Oikawa was something he just dreamt up. The thought that everything was a mere dream made everything easier for a while ―at least until Oikawa blurted out some stupid thing again.

 

\---

 

Everyone was already snoring, Oikawa’s bedroom filled with deep breathing after they somehow managed to find room to stuff all of their futons. Iwaizumi was staring at the dark ceiling, where some years ago Oikawa left a small black stain at the corner while they were doing their calligraphy homework. Oikawa, always in need to show off, couldn’t restrain himself from waving his brush back and forth.

Outside the crickets were still buzzing, and Oikawa was sleeping barely a few inches away, his mouth open and a hand tucked under his shirt. If only his fangirls could see him now.

Iwaizumi knew the he was being dishonest with Oikawa, but it would be cruel and even more unfair to drop everything on him out of the blue. He couldn’t let it get in between their teamwork, and specially, their friendship, because for him there was nothing more precious than what they had.

He instantly dismissed any thought about confessing. If he let his weaknesses out, he wouldn’t be able to look at himself in the mirror without feeling disgust.

Sometimes Oikawa called him his knight in a shining armor. And maybe he was, partly.

“You’ll mess up with your routine and look like a misshaped fruit at practice,” said a voice in the dark. Iwaizumi jumped in surprise, but a gentle hand reached his elbow and squeezed. “Shh…” Oikawa placed a finger against his lips. His eyes were shining in the darkness. “Why are you awake?”

“Yeah,” he eyed up Oikawa’s sleepy face and then leaned back against his futon yet again examining the ceiling. “Forget it.”

“I can’t,” Oikawa leaned his head on his hand.

They heard someone shifting under their covers, but fortunately their whispering didn’t wake them up.

“I told you, forget it.” Iwaizumi said, trying to focus on the sound of the crickets.

“Are you worried because of what I said back then?”

“What? No way in hell!”

Sometimes Iwaizumi felt naked when Oikawa noticed things he wasn’t supposed to. The way he could guess his thoughts with only a mere glance or gesture. Even though was a good thing to understand each other without words, but sometimes it was also grimly inconvenient.

The place where Oikawa had touched him still burned. But it had been worse during sleepovers at either of their houses, because if during such nights Oikawa was feeling cold or was having nightmares, his stupid childhood habit made him crawl into Iwaizumi’s futon and hug him in his sleep.

His childhood was long gone, but his habit stayed.

Iwaizumi always gave in. The difference was that now he couldn’t fall asleep.

“Sleep, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whispered. “Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

 

\---

 

The gym was filled with the sound of the sneakers against the parquet. Someone shouted, Iwaizumi missed and spiked the ball against the net.

“Iwa-chan, focus!” Exclaimed Oikawa as he tossed him another ball. He run, pushed his feet off the floor and jumped high. He spiked the ball on the other side of the net.

Focus? As if It were so easy. If Iwaizumi had known that that stupid question during the game would get so deep under his skin, he would have punched himself. He felt dumb overthinking so much about that stupid comment. Kindaichi asked it as a joke, and Oikawa answered it as a joke. So what? Of course it would be easier―and funnier―to answer his best friend. Only that now Iwaizumi has had to force himself to eat for two whole days, and only for the sake of not letting down his team.

To compensate for the unsuccessful practice, Iwaizumi asked Oikawa to stay a little longer, so he could toss him a bit more. Oikawa beamed with joy and tossed him until he got it right, every interaction surprisingly silent. A strange thing, really, because when Oikawa kept giving him long and thoughtful glances Iwaizumi found himself missing Oikawa’s usual, teasing remarks.

In the locker room Oikawa had barely had time to take off his trainers when he sat wearily on the bench. He tilted his head back, revealing the Adam’s Apple on his long neck.

“Iwa-chan, I’m so tired. Go home without me,” Oikawa swallowed, and Iwaizumi’s eyes were fixed on his Adam’s Apple.

“Stop being ridiculous and get changed.”

Iwaizumi knew the limits of training a lot better than Oikawa, and ignoring Oikawa’s complains, he headed into the showers.

When he got back, Oikawa was still sitting at the same spot, feet stretched, his white socks on.

“You’ve overworked me a bit,” he answered the questioning gaze Iwaizumi sent him while putting on his shirt. “If you want me to go home, you’ll have to help and undress me, Iwa-chan.”

He’s got to be fucking kidding.

Iwaizumi carefully eyed Oikawa, forgetting all thought about buttoning up his shirt. Then he approached him and with a completely impervious expression and dropped down on his knees.

Oikawa, who was still leaning into his hands, quietly swallowed but didn’t move.

He clenched his hands into fists when Iwaizumi took him by his ankle and rested his foot on his lap. Then, he gently run his fingers through the knee pad, and carefully took it off.

If only Oikawa knew how hard Iwaizumi was struggling to keep himself under control, to keep himself from putting his palm on Tooru’s tights. To keep himself from to running his fingers upward, slowly. Upward, under his shorts.

“Relax your leg,” he ordered, but there was no response. The air was filled with tension, and he could easily forget how to breathe.

Iwaizumi took the other leg and put his fingers under the knee brace, feeling the gentle complexion under his fingertips. He slowly pulled the brace down, hands brushing the naked skin, and watched as goosebumps appeared after his touch. Maybe he was feeling cold?

Oikawa observed him without moving, and when Iwaizumi’s hands got closer to the elastic of his shorts with the intention of taking those off too, Oikawa jumped to his feet and nearly kicked Iwaizumi in the face.

“W-wait, stop! That’s enough help,” he laughed, showing all his teeth. “I’ve changed my mind. Wait for me,” he said, and rushed off to the shower leaving his towel forgotten.

When the sound of the water filled the room, Iwaizumi realized that his fingers were trembling.

 

\---

 

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost, like someone just dumped you and now you’re suffering from unrequited love,” Oikawa said without looking at him, searching for something in his locker.

Oikawa, you’re damn right.

Iwaizumi looked at him. His hair was still dump from the shower and it stuck at the back of his head, sticking up in all directions. Oikawa’s slightly hunched back exposed his vertebrae under the skin. And just above the waistband of his underwear Hajime could see his small dimples of Venus.

“That’s because you’re the only one who gets more cheerful after getting dumped.”

And that was probably for the best. At the moment it seemed like Oikawa only lived for the sake of beating Shiratorizawa. Of beating Ushijima. Sometimes Iwaizumi wondered that maybe the real reason of why he couldn’t stand Ushijima wasn’t because of the loss, but because of Oikawa.

He remembered feeling just like someone had hung him by his own entrails when last year Ushijima had stopped them after the match, and right in the street offered Oikawa to transfer from Aoba Johsai to Shiratorizawa. Though with the brickface he was making, it looked more like an order than an offer. After that, as soon as Ushijima turned his back, Oikawa stuck his tongue out at him and then for about half an hour went on a rampage. Even though Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa feels just as sick with just the thought about Ushijima, he couldn’t help but feel irked by him.

“I don’t get upset,” Oikawa reached out for a white shirt and quickly put it on, hair bouncing back on its place. “I’d rather know who couldn’t see all of Iwa-chan’s outstanding virtues,” he continued when Iwaizumi’s silent answer didn’t seem to convince him. “Show me who she is, and I’ll tell you everything so no girl would be able to resist you.”

“Screw you.”

“If we lose to Karasuno or Shiratorizawa because you’re in low spirits, I won’t forgive you.”

“Like you’re the one to talk, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi zipped his jacket the with a sharp movement. “Have you plastered your room with Ushijima’s posters yet?”

“Iwa-chan!”

“Let’s just go home.”

Iwaizumi had already turned back, ready to go, when he suddenly felt fingers brushing between his shoulder blades, and then lower, and lower. His heart skipped and beat and he quickly turned around.

“There was something stuck,” Oikawa showed him the thin thread he was holding between his fingers.

Iwaizumi exhaled a deep breath. He could have removed that thread without such a gesture.

“Let’s go.”

 

\---

 

The entrance exams were just around the corner, and in just a few months they will graduate high school, and they will leave as champions. Iwaizumi had faith that they would beat Kageyama’s and Ushijima’s assess. Beat them all. It was a promise they had made to each other when they were still in middle school, and to keep a promise is a sacred duty.

Iwaizumi was playing with his pencil in their English class. The room was filled with the bustle movements of the almost asleep students, not even the approaching exams were able to waken them from the drowsiness. June’s heatwave was by no means compassionate, and the sun at the back of Iwaizumi’s head felt like it wanted to fry him alive.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa, as if having read his thoughts, bent across his table and whispered in Iwaizumi’s ear. “Study with me after school?”

Iwaizumi didn’t answer.

The day before Oikawa told him that he was offered a sports scholarship from one of the most preeminent universities of Tokyo, but the idiot refused it because he wanted to study together with Iwa-chan. Maybe both of them will end up in Tokyo, maybe even in the same university that made Oikawa the offer. Or maybe they will split up after some months. Either way, he was sure that they will stay friends forever. Also, maybe a little distance would help Iwaizumi to cope better with his feelings, even though he still wasn’t sure if that could actually work.

Someone like Oikawa deserved better.

Iwaizumi was always bothered by Oikawa’s harshness on himself. He overworked himself like a dog and yet he continued to insist that Kageyama could easily surpass him. He got so reckless sometimes that Iwaizumi had to keep an eye on him, so he wouldn’t do something stupid in the heat of the moment. And sometimes Iwaizumi’s punches were the only thing that stopped him from doing anything rush.

In spite of all that, he empathised with Oikawa even knowing that the setter had really nothing to worry about because it would take Kageyama years to become as good as him. No matter how talented he was, he didn’t have Oikawa’s skills and he never would. Despite his picky character and swanky personality, he could bring together any team, find common ground with anyone, command respect and if needed―fear. That’s why Iwaizumi admired him. And when Oikawa tossed to him Iwaizumi couldn’t help but feel pride when he saw his body suspended in the air, a place where no one could reach him. Those were the greatest tosses, and the most beautiful ones.

Iwaizumi didn’t know when exactly he realized that his affection and admiration weren’t meant just in a friendly way. In middle school or in high school?

“It feels so good being with you, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa had said thoughtlessly on the subway, almost asleep on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

_It feels good being with you, too._

It had been that moment that made Iwaizumi realize he didn’t need anything else. Just this.

By the end of middle school his feelings grew stronger. In high school they became quite clear, and Iwaizumi had to make his peace with them.

“…zumi-kun, Iwaizumi-kun!”                                                                         

Surprised, Iwaizumi dropped his pencil and stared at the teacher.

“Could you read the page twenty-six?” The teacher impatiently tapped with the pointer at the blackboard, where he had written the name of the text.

 _Shit_.

“Iwa-chan’s head is on the clouds,” said a teasing voice from behind.

“Shut up,” he answered, violently turning the pages.

The school’s cafeteria was a beehive of noise. While Oikawa was hovering over the vending machine deciding which soba he preferred―with beef or pork―Iwaizumi opened the bento his mother made him and played with his chopsticks.

He looked up at Oikawa, who seemed to have finished and was finally waiting for his order. He wondered why he was pocking at his phone with such a frown.

Then he moved the chair to sit beside Iwaizumi, heavily throwing the tray on the table.

“Those girls are nothing but trouble,” he groaned, tilting his head back. “It’s a pity that I can’t date Iwa-chan.”

Upon hearing those words, Iwaizumi stared at his plate and gripped tightly his chopsticks. This was probably the best moment to burry himself in his own bowl of soba.

“Why not?” he suddenly blurted out. Oikawa coughed and pounded his own chest.

Iwaizumi patted him, afraid he would choke to death.

“Just joking.”

“Iwa-chan!” he looked at Iwaizumi with tears in his eyes. “Don’t joke with such a serious expression or I might believe it.”

What if he _did_ believe it? What then?

For the rest of the lunch-break Oikawa kept silent, and Iwaizumi too had nothing to say.

“I’m done,” Iwaizumi said getting up. “I’ll go ahead.”

Stupid Oikawa.

He went to the bathroom and splashed water over his face, the cold drops slid down his neck and wet his shirt.

He couldn’t even look at himself. He used to be the voice of reason between the two of them, but now it seemed like he was the one who needed someone to shake him and to hit him and to tell him he was being stupid.

He felt a smack in the back of his head.

Iwaizumi quickly turned around only to meet two chocolate eyes. Oikawa was standing with his arms folded around his chest, calm and collected, while Iwaizumi was considering if it was physically possible for his heart to burst out of his chest.

“How did you know I was here?”

“I know everything about Iwa-chan,” Oikawa smiled, biting the tip of his tongue.

It was something he usually bragged about, but this time Iwaizumi couldn’t figure out if it was serious or not.

“Really―everything?”

“I am in charge of the team, and that also includes you,” he replied poking Iwaizumi’s chest with his finger. “And also, I hate when you hide things from me.”

The light coming out of the window made Oikawa’s features look sharper. Iwaizumi held his breath.

“I’m not hiding anything,” he turned away to wash his hands and then splashed the pile with water. Oikawa almost had him backed against the corner.

“Don’t worry,” Iwaizumi made contact with Oikawa’s serious gaze and patted him on the back with a wet hand. “We will go to nationals.”

Iwaizumi had a feeling that the conversation wasn’t really about volleyball but talking about that would not be so easy. What else should he have said? Oikawa, I’ve liked you for years? I’ve liked you so much that it’s driving me insane? That sounded bizarre even in his own head.

The air was filled with tension. Like that growing snowball full of problems would come down from the mountain at any moment.

Oikawa took a step back, and for a while didn’t avert his eyes from him. His look was making Iwaizumi’s body burn from intensity of that gaze.

 

 

After school, when they were walking home and finally got separated from the mass of students, Oikawa quickly looked around and took a step closer. He pushed Iwaizumi in a small alley between two houses, so small that both of them barely fit.

Oikawa squeezed him by his shoulder.

“What are you―”

“Iwa-chan…” his voice made Iwaizumi’s skin quiver. For years he has heard Oikawa say his name in a lot of different ways. And never before his name has sounded so gentle in Oikawa’s lips, trembling with trepidation.

Before continuing, he fixed his eyes on Iwaizumi, like he was carefully considering every single word in his head.

“Do you…”

A last pause. A second-like decision before jumping.

“…Like me?”

Iwaizumi felt his stomach drop.

“What are you talking about?” he tried to smile, but he realized he would probably look like an idiot.

Oikawa squeezed his shoulder with more force.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa repeated, and Iwaizumi wanted nothing more than to the ground to swallow him whole.

Never in his whole life Oikawa has gotten so close to the truth. A truth Iwaizumi had tried so hard to hide.

“You’re my best friend, of course I like you.”

“I’m not talking about that.”

Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa, repeating a mantra in his head: think, think, think!

When he looked at his face―god―he bore such a concentrated expression that could easily surpass the one he had on their matches. Iwaizumi was only one answer away from the abyss. If he confessed everything would fall apart. But there was something eating him from the inside, whispering― it’s time to tell the truth. Because only cowards run away from their problems.

The always brave and confident Iwa-chan. You have nowhere else to run.

Now he was truly afraid.

Iwaizumi bit his lip, took a deep breath and nodded. Short and blunt, not meeting Oikawa’s eyes. Be that as it may, because no matter Oikawa’s answer, Iwaizumi’s won’t treat him any differently.

Oikawa’s fingers on his shirt slackened, and his grip on him loosened.

The silence that followed felt everlasting. He heard someone shuffling around on the pavement. Voices of girls walking the same path from school and the wind howling between the street wires.

And all of a sudden, he felt Oikawa’s warm forehead in the crook of his neck.

Iwaizumi’s hands stiffened right away, and he waited like that, baffled, with no idea of what to do with them. Oikawa stood like that for a long time while Iwaizumi just froze, like an idiot.

“Iwa-chan…” Oikawa’s whisper rubbed salt on the wound and brought him back to reality. Of course he would be shocked. Of course. Anyone would be if they discovered out of the blue that their best friend had feelings for them.

Oikawa raised his now reddish eyes.

“Truth or dare?” he asked.

Who in his right mind would play games in a moment like this?

“Dare.”

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa simpered at him. “Go out with me.”

Iwaizumi didn’t answer. He just yanked Oikawa by his collar and kissed him.


End file.
